Changes
by The Horseman
Summary: An ER doc reflects on the changes in her life


Notes - ER f/f fanfic. So if that'll get something chopped off/you simply don't like this sorta thing, then I recommend the London Times' analysis of the possible Anglo-American attack on Iraq. Their strategic review of the region is very detailed.  
  
four_horsemen_of_the_apocalypse@hotmail.com for anybody with the sudden urge to tell me I'm a genius. Don't worry, it's OK. I'll understand it if you're suddenly overwhelmed by hero-worship after reading this.  
  
Seriously, all constructive criticism to that address. Anyone who wants to archive this, I recommend psychiatric help. If you don't feel comfortable with that, well, please e-mail me first. I like to keep track of where my fics are.  
  
Rating - I don't know. So let's call it an R to be safe.  
  
Disclaimer - cannon is theirs. Original is mine.  
  
Summary - One of the ER docs reflects on how her life has changed.  
  
Changes By the Horseman  
  
She paused. Even over the splashing of the shower, she heard the door open.  
  
She wasn't sure how she knew it was her mistress. After all their years together, she just supposed that she'd grown a sixth sense. She always knew though  
  
She always knew that it was her  
  
She'd meant to talk to her mistress all day. Explain to her that she'd meant to tell her that she'd returned to County. Explain that she'd been made Chief Resident almost immediately, and that she'd hadn't had a chance to contact her, to tell her as she'd been ordered to  
  
She'd been a bad girl. She knew that. The only question was when the punishment would be coming  
  
She'd paused in her scrubbing, and waited for her mistress to act. She only hoped that she'd be lenient with her, understand what had happened.  
  
Part of her still hoped for the punishment though. Because her mistress could punish people like no other. And she always made it up afterwards  
  
She stood there, soap in her hand next to her side, waiting for the shower curtain to be pulled away.  
  
She hadn't thought of herself as submissive before she came to County. She'd always been the leader, the one who organised things. At her college, she'd even had her own gang. She'd been the terror of the other children, virtually running the playground. She'd never been violent with any of the other girls, just forceful. She'd always made sure that that hint of brutality had gotten into her threats. She was their god. They'd better understand that.  
  
Yet something in her had changed during her time in med school. She'd always been bisexual, ever since she could remember. While other girls had been drooling over the film heroes, she'd been looking at the female co- stars in the movies as well. She'd drooled as well, just with one eye always on the woman screaming for help. With those low-cut blouses, and the skirts that came up to a just decent length.  
  
She felt herself becoming wetter and wetter. Her mistress always knew how to arouse her. It was uncanny, she thought. Like she was telepathic or something  
  
What had changed at med school was that she found herself surrounded by her equals for the first time. The kids at her college may have been her economic equals, but they could never beat her intellectually. Spoilt daddy's girls, hundreds of Jewish princesses whose entire lives were dedicated to their next allowance payout.  
  
At med school, she'd found that she was surrounded for the first time by her equals, and even people who were cleverer than she was. And while the 8- year old version of her might have hated it, the 18-year old loved it. She found that once she'd gotten over the jealousy and the envy, she enjoyed having to compete to prove herself in the eyes of her professors. And one professor in particular.  
  
She shuddered slightly at the memory of Professor Cowell. God how she wanted to be fucked right now. She suppressed the need to beg her mistress for the punishment. That would only make her more angry  
  
Louisa Cowell was the one who changed her. She remembered how the professor had asked her to stay behind one night, after her class ended, to discuss her paper. And how the talk about improving her C mark turned into a visit to the professor's home, so they could see where she was going wrong. Which became, after plenty of glasses of wine, her admitting how wrong she was in the eyes of her professor, and begging the older woman to forgive her.  
  
Her juices tickled their way down her thighs. She seemed to be on fire with need. The memory of the professor had always done that to her. Even with her new mistress, she'd never felt more aroused than she'd done during that night in Professor Cowell's home.  
  
Then there was Victoria. If the professor had introduced her to this world, it was Vicky who'd become her guide. Vicky, her room mate's best friend, and her lover, who'd taught her to be comfortable with who she was, and what she wanted in a relationship. How she liked to be treated by her lovers, and what there was to make her scream.  
  
She'd begged her new mistress to buy herself a whip, but she'd refused. She knew that her mistress didn't enjoy whipping, and she hadn't pressed her why. She was her mistress. She was there to give orders, not to be asked questions. That simply how it was.  
  
A small whimper escaped from her throat, and she cursed herself for her weakness. She hadn't meant that. She hadn't meant to be so foolish and weak, but she couldn't help herself. She needed this so badly. She began edging her way towards the other side of the bath, careful not to seem too forward with her mistress. She'd never liked that.  
  
The curtain was pulled back right in her face suddenly, so suddenly that she'd dropped the soap in surprise.  
  
Her mistress stood there, still in her lab coat. The woman reminded her of when she'd first seen her mistress, eight years ago. Smiling at her as she entered the ER for the first time. She blushed at the memory, and at the sight of her mistress inspecting her crotch. Her mistress ran her index finger up her coated thigh, and brought it to her face.  
  
She whimpered as she sucked on her mistress's finger, carefully removing all the juices from the digit. Her mistress pulled the finger out with a gentle noise of release  
  
"Please...?"  
  
She knew that her mistress wouldn't like it, but she was beyond the point of caring. She had to have this, even if the punishments lasted until the end of time. She didn't care. She wanted her lover and her queen, and she needed her now.  
  
Her mistress smiled.  
  
"I was going to ask you why you didn't phone, but I think that'll wait. You're desperate, aren't you?"  
  
She nodded weakly, a shuddering want in her gaze  
  
"Well then it'll just have to wait"  
  
She extended her hand to the woman, who took it and grasped it firmly  
  
"Let's go and deal with your needs. The punishment will come later though"  
  
She stepped out of the bath, and taking her mistress's hand, walked into her bedroom. On their way out, her mistress grasped a towel, and handed it to her.  
  
"Here, use this to wipe yourself down. I think that you're wet enough already with the water"  
  
"Thank you mistress"  
  
She smiled. "I never really liked that. Call me what you'd call me at work Jing-Mei"  
  
She nodded at the woman who ruled her life.  
  
"Yes Dr. Lewis" 


End file.
